With Friends Like These
by Noodle12
Summary: In which a young, insecure Imperial woman finds love, friends, and herself in a humorous and poorly written, sarcastic tale of assassinations, dysfunctional murderous families, sweetrolls, and 310 year old vampire children. Rated T, may be changed later.
1. Chapter 1:The Uncertainty Of An Imperial

Layra Ceasur couldn't tell you why she was standing here, in front of a no-longer-innocent little boy, as he excitedly claimed to her that she was a member of the Dark Brotherhood and could now "accept his contract", whatever that meant. All she knew was that she heard some rumors of this boy...over in Windhelm...and she was curious. Very curious. She wanted...and _needed,_and required information on the rumored boy who was summoning some sort of group to him.

Again, she couldn't tell you why she needed it. She just did. That was it.

She had no knowledge of this group, or of this boy, until now. And before she could reply to the poor young man, she was practically pushed out of the door. She sighed in foolish defeat and she shook her head as she stumbled down the streets of Windhelm.

"Stupid kids...rediculous. How dare that child ask such a thing of me? I must be going soft, I swear to the Gods." She grumbled to herself as she took a carriage to Riften. She fingered her spare blade she had always had with her and she sighed for the last time. When the carriage driver tried to make conversation on the way to her destination, she snapped at him, and he kept quiet. The lack of sleep and stress piling up inside of her was becoming too much for her to handle.

When she arrived in Riften, she stormed right through the streets, bright in the late moonlight, and fingered her weapon once more.

"Why am I doing this? Am I insane? This isn't me. I can't do this. This isn't me. Stop...STOP WALKING!" Her mind screamed. She didn't know why she was just doing everything people told her to do. She never listened. To him.

That man.

The old one.

The scary, mean, tough one back in Whiterun.

Eorlund Gray-Mane, a tough, smart-mouthed smither of Skyforge Steel. He had once told her back when she had attempted to join the Companions of Jorrvaskr that "You shouldn't always do what people tell you to do." But she had. She had, and she was devastated. Was she really this stupid, weak, and afraid?

Afraid of being able to stand up for herself and turn down orders?

Really?

"I'm afraid so..." Layra muttered to herself softly as she walked through the large doors of Honorhall Orphanage. She crouched down as she heard the old crone in the next room wail at the children before her. A young woman was sleeping in a open room across from where Layra hid. She took her bow and crawled backwards, into the dark shadows of the unlit dining room. She went next to the table, brought out her temporarily poisoned arrow, and aimed for Grelod's bloody head.

_"This...Me...The way I act...my orders..."_Layra's mind reeled out random words to herself as Grelod spat at the orphans. She rose her bow and pulled the arrow back.

_"My life...the way I am..."_

She closed one eye and squinted with the other.

_"This has always been this way..."_

She let go.

The arrow went flying across the room and soared into Grelods weak old skull. The penetration surprisingly resulted in a lot of blood spewing out from in between the tip of the arrow. The children flinched and screamed after witnessing the somewhat clean kill, but...

What? These children...they were...

Cheering? Cheering for the death of their landlady? Layra shook her head. It didn't make sense.

"Yay! Aventus did it! He really summoned the Brotherhood and got them to kill old Grelod! Haha!" One girl shrieked.

"We love you Dark Brotherhood!" Yelled another ecstatic boy. Layra's eyes widened, and she re-placed her bow on her back and strapped to her person and quickly fled the scene. Two guards looked at her suspiciously, but the minute she stepped out of the moonlight, she was gone...almost as if she was invisible. The rest of the guards in Riften were half asleep, anyway.

Layra took another carriage ride back to the Aretino Residence, just to be safe. He cheered and thanked her and rewarded her with an "Aretino Family Heirloom" that would "Fetch her a nice price."

"Hmph...nice price my foot. Its just a silver plate. Stupid kids..." She grumbled and walked out of Windhelm, throwing the plate off of the side of the bridge and, instead of driving, walking down the snowy trail, all the way home to Falkreath.

When she arrived back home, a courier crashed into her, panting and holding out a note for her. She just grabbed it and pushed him away, breathing heavily as her exhausted form attempted to get through the front door of her house. She collapsed on the bed, removing her shoes with her own feet, and stretched out across the bed. She held the note high above her and scanned it before dropping her arms and letting the letter fall to the floor as sleep immediately took over. The discarded letter landed soundlessly onto the wooden floor on an open side, revealing what was written. A huge black handprint covered most of the paper, and underneath said hand were the words,

"We Know".


	2. Chapter 2: Delayed Burial

Layra dreamt...

...and dreamt...

...and dreamt...

She dreamed of many things, both horrifying and stupid, but she especially dreamed of a event that happened rather recently. Probably only a week or two ago...

* * *

><p>She was on her way to Ivarstead, and she walked down the road, past Whiterun, past the farms, and past the strange young man with the wagon.<p>

Wait...what?

She turned around on her heel and marched up to the obviously upset young man. His brows were furrowed in anger and frustration as he pointed dramatically to one of the broken wagon wheels and shrieked,

"Agh! Bother and befuddle! Stuck here! Stuck! My mother...my poor mother...Unmoving. At rest, but too still!" He whimpered.

"Um...problem?" Layra asked him curiously. He scowled at her and flailed his arms once more.

"Poor Cicero is stuck! Can't you see? I was transporting my dear, sweet mother...well, not her. Her corpse! She's quite dead." He said with a hint of amusement in his voice. Layra raised her eyebrow in confusion at the man. It was then that she noticed his attire. He wore a black and maroon jester's hat. His shirt was blood red with a black buttoned vest over it. He had somewhat ripped up the end of his red, worn shirt, which hung over some pants that matched his vest. He wore fairly typical black and pointy jester's boots and some medium sized black gloves on his hands. She could spy a dagger wrapped around the buckle of his pants. She swallowed as she thought of the worst things this seemingly harmless lunatic could have done with that dagger.

"I'm taking Mother to a new home, a new crypt! But...AGH! Wagon wheel! Damndest wagon wheel! It broke. Don't you see?" The jester wore a worried and painful expression as he glanced down in her direction once more, and the worries towards his "evil capabilities" she had faded completely. She gave a small smile and took a step closer. She shrugged her shoulders slightly as she noticed him folding his arms in fury.

"Is there some way I can help?" She asked him. His eyes widened as he looked at her, his mouth suddenly breaking into the most adorable smile she had witnessed in years. He unfolded his arms and began to dance. She giggled very softly at the sight.

"Oh! Oh yes! Yes, the kindly stranger can certainly help! Go to the farm - the Loreius farm. Just over there, off the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools! He can help me, but he wont. He refuses!" He paused, his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed slightly.

"Convince Loreius to fix my wheel! Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Gleamy, shiny coin!" He smiled once more and walked over to his horse and began talking to it about carrots, and how he loved them almost as much as the horse did.

Layra sighed and began to walk up the hill, off the road, and into the farm. She knocked on the farmhouse door and let herself in after a moment of waiting. She tapped on Vantus Loreius's shoulder and he turned to her, glaring.

"Oh for the love of Mara, what now?" He spat. Layra flinched, but kept her cool.

"The, um, little man outside needs your help...to fix his wagon wheel?" She said, slightly nervous. Vantus scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"That Cicero feller?" Layra nodded, then paused. _So that was his name..._

"Tell me something I don't know. Damn fool's already asked me about five times. Says he's transporting his Mother. Pft, Mother my eye! He could have anything in there. War contraband, stolen goods, Skooma. Ain't no way I'm getting caught up in any of that." He said. Layra bit her lip and gave a pleading look.

"He's a harmless man who needs help. Please, do the right thing." She begged. Vantus glared at her, fire burning in his eyes.

"What? And just who in Mara's name are you, huh? Come in here, telling me my business! And for what? To help a, a ...a fool!" Layra glared back at him. Who in the gods was he to act this way?

"You know you should help him..." She growled, glaring hard into his eyes. Vantus began to stutter, fearfully trying to look away. Layra raised her eyebrows in question, and Vantus broke.

"All right, all right. I get it, your right. Feller might be nutters, might not, but the point is, he needs help. If I turn him away, what kind of a man am I, hmm?" He sighed. Layra smiled, relaxing finally. Vantus turned to her, putting on some gloves for his hands so he could get to work.

"Look, um, thanks. Tell Cicero I'll be down right away. I just need to get some tools and a few other things." He said. Layra nodded happily and ran out of the farm house, sprinting down the hill and nearly crashing into Cicero's wagon. She composed herself while smiling excitedly and went over to tap Cicero on his shoulder. He was sulking.

"Poor Mother, her new home seems so very far..." He sighed. He turned around when she got his attention.

"I talked to Loreius. He's agreed to fix your wheel." She smiled. Cicero's eyes widened dramatically, as he dropped his sad look in shock.

"You...you did? ...He has...?" Cicero smiled wildly and quickly took her chin in his hand, pulling her towards him to give her a quick peck on the lips in his moment of happiness. Layra's blood was pumping, and her heart was racing drastically when he pulled away, beaming. Her cheeks were aflame and her eyes were wide.

"Oh stranger! You have made Cicero so happy! So jubilant and ecstatic! But more! Even more! My Mother thanks you!" He exclaimed as he reached for a coin purse in his wagon and handed it to her.

"Here, here! Shiny, clinky gold! A few coins for your kind deed. And thank you, thank you again!" He leaned against the back wall of the wagon coolly, crossing his arms and humming. Just as Layra began to walk away, she heard him singing some morbid songs. She cringed, then laughed, finding it more amusing than scary. But that could have just been because she was still in a daze from him kissing her.

"Pardon me, Cicero, but are you a bard?" Cicero's head snapped back in her direction, and he smiled and he waved a dismissive hand.

"Me? No, not Cicero. Not for years. Poor Cicero has been far too busy with Mother and work." Layra smirked.

"Though you were, once?" She asked. He nodded happily, humming.

"Once. Once, poor Cicero was a bard. But that was forever ago. Now Cicero is always with Mother, tending to her. Working for her." He exclaimed.

"I see. Well, I must say, your songs are very...poetic, and eccentric." She complemented. He smiled back, and thanked her politely. Their small talk was interrupted by the faint rumbling of his stomach. To which he giggled bashfully.

"Cicero is hungry, don't mind, don't mind." He brushed it off. Layra bit her lip in thought and tried to look for something in her bag. She had no carrots, and she found that he'd like something more...sugary. Not the apples or leeks, no. She found something much better.

She pulled out a bag of sweetrolls from inside her knapsack. She then took out a sweetroll from her bag and handed it to him.

"Here. My way of saying thank you. And you can have the rest, I don't want them." She said, handing him the other bag filled with so many sweetrolls he couldn't bother to count. He looked at her in surprise, and she shrugged.

"I've got many places to see and travel to, and if all I do is eat sweetrolls, I wont be very fit for the traveling I must do, eh? Take care Cicero. I wish you and your Mother well!" She smiled, and skipped down the road to Ivarstead.

* * *

><p>Layra smiled in her sleep and hummed. Though still deep in sleep, she could have sworn she felt her body being moved.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3: The Family Invitation

The air was moist...it was hard to breathe. Layra felt rather cold, lying on her bed. She shivered and gasped as she sat up straight, realizing she wasn't at home. She heard a voice behind her, and fell off of the bed, backing away on the floor in fear and surprise. There was a tall, slim woman sitting on a bookcase.

"Sleep well?" Asked the mystery woman. Layra swallowed.

"Wh-what...? Where am I? ...Who are you?" She asked. The woman laughed slightly.

"Does it matter? Your warm, dry, and still very much alive. That's more than can be said for old Grelod, hmm?" Layra froze, biting her lip in worry.

"You kn-know about that?" she asked. The woman scoffed.

"Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around." Layra's face fell.

"Oh, but don't misunderstand. I'm not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming, and you saved a group of urchins, to boot." The woman added. Layra didn't make a sound.

"But there is a slight...problem..." The woman said. Layra looked up at her, fear in her eyes. This couldn't be good.

"Problem?" Layra asked. _I don't like where this is going..._she thought.

"You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me, and my associates." The woman stated. Layra's heart stopped. _I am in the presence of the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Oh Gods, they'll kill me! I am such a fool!_

"Grelod the Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill... that you stole. A kill you must repay." She said. Layra paused.

"Wait...you want me to kill someone...else? Who?" She asked.

"Well now, funny you should ask. If you turn around, you'll notice my guests. I've 'collected' them from...well, that's not really important. The here and now. That's what matters. You see, there's a contract out on one of them, and that person can't leave this room alive. But...which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out." She said. Layra swallowed once more. This was too much. Which one would it be? What would happen if she got it wrong? Would the Dark Brotherhood kill her? Oh, the possibilities were terrifying.

She stepped over to the three hostages and pulled out her ebony sword. She took a deep breath, and put the sword back. She walked over to the other side of the room and opened a chest. She found what she was looking for. Rumor had it that in this abandoned shack, there was the largest greatsword in all of Tamriel. Layra pulled it out and rolled her eyes. Never believe in rumors. This was just a typical iron greatsword. Nothing special. Layra took one last deep breath, stood carefully in front of the hostages, and made her decision.

She cut off all of their heads with one swing of the sword. She tossed the sword among their dead forms and turned back to the mystery woman as the smell of fresh blood began to fill the room.

"I see. Very very good. Three possibilities, one contract, so why take a chance? Very good indeed, my dear." The woman praised. Layra felt nothing at that moment. Not even guilt. The exhilaration of the large kill overwhelmed her so quickly and intensely that her whole body, mind, and spirit went numb. So numb, in fact, that Layra didn't think about her answer and said the exact opposite of what she should have said.

"You told me to kill, and I killed." She said. The woman smiled, not with her mouth, but with her eyes. She hummed a bit, and nodded.

"Precisely. You did very well. Good work. Your dept has been payed." She said. Layra nodded.

"So I can go now?" She asked.

"Of course..." the woman replied. "Here's the key to the shack. But why stop here? I say we take our relationship to the next level. I would like to officially extend to you an invitation to join my family, the Dark Brotherhood." She continued. Layra froze again. What would she do?

"In the southwest reaches of Skyrim, in the Pine Forest, you'll find the entrance to our Sanctuary. It's just beneath the road, hidden from view. When questioned by the Black Door, answer with the correct passphrase: 'Silence, my brother.' Then your in. And your new life begins." She said. Layra bit her lip.

"My name is Astrid, I'll see you at home." Said the woman, now known as 'Astrid', and Layra said her own name just before leaving.

* * *

><p>Poor Layra had no idea what to make of this, and on her way back to Falkreath, she stumbled across a Black Door. Certain that it was just a coincidence, she walked up to it jokingly. She was about to turn around and continue her journey when the door spoke.<p>

"What is the music of life?" It asked. Layra jumped in surprise, and then bit her lip as she shuffled her feet nervously. So this really was the right place...

"Silence, my brother...?" She asked. There was a click of the lock.

"Welcome home..." The door hissed. Layra placed a gentle hand on the front of the door and it swung open. Layra checked behind her and up the road and saw nobody coming this way. Just in case, she hid the door some more by dragging a few loose shrubs and dead bushes in front of the walkway and ran inside frantically. She walked down the stone steps and saw Astrid sitting at a table with a map and several daggers on it.

"Ah! At last! I hope you found the place alright." She said. Layra nodded slightly.

"So what happens now?" Layra asked.

"Well, what happens now is you start your new life in the Dark Brotherhood. You're part of the Family now, after all. This, as you can see, is our Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in SKyrim. So get comfortable." said Astrid.

It was at that moment, that Layra got a sudden itch. She bit her lip and blinked as she paused for a moment. She wanted...well, she didn't really know what she wanted. She wanted to feel that thrill she had gotten when she killed those people. She wanted to see blood spill. She wanted to smell it. She wanted to see the fear in the eyes of her victims.

But...she didn't really want that...did she? She was a good girl, nice, thoughtful, too caught up in everyone else's life to think about her own. She wasn't a murderess...she didn't like to kill...

...right?

"W-when do I get to kill someone?" She asked anxiously. _You monster!_ Her mind screamed.

"Soon, my dearest, soon. For now, go meet the rest of our Family and when that's done, go see Nazir. He'll have some contracts ready for you, I'm sure. Soon, the Night Mother will arrive. And things around here are sure to get more interesting. Ah, but one last thing. A welcome home present. The armor of the Dark Brotherhood. May it serve you well in all your...endeavors." Astrid replied. Layra slipped on her new outfit and admired herself for a moment before descending down the stairs.

She heard many people laughing and talking and telling stories of their successful contracts.

"Hahaha! Do the part where he tries to buy you some candy!" Said an Argonian in the circle. A little girl laughed with him and took a deep breath.

"Okay, okay, wait." She cleared her throat and began to imitate herself and an old man.

"'Ooh, you are such a pretty little girl. Would the sweetie like a sweetie? Oh, yes, how about some chocolate?' 'Oh yes, please kind sir. My mama and papa left me all alone, and I'm so very hungry. I know a shortcut to the candy shop, through this alley.' 'Oh ya. Very good, very good. My it is dark down here, isn't it? Oh but you are so beautiful. Such a lovely smile...your teeth...y-your teeth! NO! ARGHHHHHHHHHH!'" She finished, leaving everyone else howling with laughter. Layra was going to listen to the conversation some more, but she was confronted by a heavily dressed Redguard.

"So your the newest member of our dwindling, dysfunctional little family. I've heard quite a bit about you." Nazir said. Layra nodded.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Nazir." She said.

"Save the niceties for now. I have no intention of getting invested in someone who might be dead tomorrow. If your still breathing in a few weeks, I'm sure we'll be the best of friends." He said.

"Astrid said you might have some contracts for me..." Said Layra.

"Did she now? Well, as it turns out, there are a few lingering contracts we haven't had the chance to complete just yet. And more, dribbling in from time to time. I'll assign them to you as they become available. To be completed at you leisure." He said. Layra shrugged.

"Simple enough." She said.

"It is. These aren't particularly glamorous assassinations, I'll be honest. Don't pay much either. But they'll keep you busy. Just do them as your able. There's no real time limit. The targets aren't going anywhere. Talk to me when your ready, and good luck. Welcome to the Family, and happy hunting." He said, leaving Layra to get aquainted with the rest of her new Family. The Argonian Veezara, Babette the 310 year old vampire child, Arnbjorn (Astrid's husband) and werewolf, Festus Krex (the old wizard), and Gabriella, the kind Dunmer woman. Immediately, Layra began to bond with each member as she began her new life.

An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood. 


	4. Chapter 4: Problem In Markarth

First days passed. Then weeks. And Layra was bringing in more and more coin for herself, not that she really needed it. She was in it for the killing, the thrill, and not much more. There was something about the art of murder that she adored. The way her blade could cut the flesh of her victims so easily. The way they screamed. The way their blood spilled...something about it all was just...wonderful...

After completing three more contracts for Nazir, Layra entered the Sanctuary, tired but pleased. She stumbled down the steps and left the bloody dagger on the side of Astrid's table for now. She undid her cowl and set in inside her shoulder-bag as she went down the last few steps. The others had said the Night Mother would arrive today. Layra wondered if they were right.

As she stepped into the common area of the Sanctuary, her eyes widened and she dropped her bag.

_Cicero..._

Heat rose to her face and colored her cheeks as she remembered her first encounter with Cicero. She stayed at the edge of the stairs as she watched him talk while standing in front of the Night Mother's coffin.

"...But the night mother is mother to all! It is her voice we follow! Her will! Would you dare risk disobedience? And surely...punishment?" He squealed at Astrid as the other Family members watched around them.

"Keep talkin', little man, and we'll see who gets 'punished'." Growled Arnbjorn. Layra glared slightly at him. Damn stupid wolf. What did he know?

"Oh be quiet, you great lumbering lapdog. The man has had a long journey. You can at least be civil. Mister Cicero, I for one am delighted that you and the Night Mother have arrived. Your presence here signals a welcome return to tradition." Said Festus Krex. Cicero smiled.

"Oh, what a kind and wise wizard you are. Sure to earn our Lady's favor!" Cicero exclaimed. Layra smiled a bit.

"You and the Night Mother are of course welcome here, Cicero. And you will be afforded the respect deserving of your position as Keeper. Understood..._husband?_" Astrid said, giving Arnbjorn a stern look, to which he growled more.

"Oh yes yes yes! Thank you thank you thank you!" Cicero cheered. Layra giggled at his happiness.

"But make no mistake. I am the leader of this Sanctuary. My word is law. Are we clear on that point?" Astrid asked Cicero.

"Oh yes, mistress. Perfectly! You're the boss." Cicero said. He smirked darkly as everyone else retreated.

"Oh yes mistress...you're the boss...for now..." Cicero whispered as he turned to the Night Mother's coffin. He took out a hammer from his bag and began to work on getting the Mother's coffin out of the large wooden box.

Astrid came over to Layra as soon as she spotted her and spoke.

"Ah, good. There you are. I was done speaking with that muttering fool anyway. We've got some business to discuss." Astrid said.

"Do you have a contract for me?" Layra asked.

"I do indeed. You must go to the city of Markarth and speak with the apothecary's assistant. You'll probably find her in 'The Hag's Cure' when the shop is open. The girl has been running her mouth. She wants an ex-lover killed. She's apparently preformed the Black Sacrament. Her name is Muiri. I need you to talk to her, set up the contract, and carry it out." Said Astrid.

"Anything else?" Layra asked.

"Just do whatever the contact wishes. Be professional, represent us well, and get the job done. Since it's the first contract that I'VE given you, I'll let you keep whatever Muiri pays. She'll be generous, I'm sure. They always are." Astrid finished and began to walk up the stairs. Layra heard Cicero exclaim in surprise as he dropped his hammer. He turned around and leaned over to pick it up, but Layra beat him to it. She stood up straight and handed him the hammer.

"Thank you, sister." He smiled, and turned around. Layra's face fell, but then she changed her expression when he turned back to look at her.

"Wait! I know you...yes! From the road! Cicero never forgets a face." He announced proudly. Layra bit her lip and nodded.

_And I never forget men who steal my first kiss..._She thought.

"You were the man with the wagon...transporting his...mother..." She paused in realization as she looked down, and once again he took her chin and his hands and made her look at him.

"Hmm...yes...but not just my Mother, _our _Mother, hmm?" He noticed her cheeks go aflame once more and pulled away, working on the wooden crate.

"I'll see you around, Cicero." Layra said, backing away, silently excited.

"Yes, yes, farewell! Kill well, and often!" Cicero called as he began his work again. Layra prepared herself for her trip and walked out of the Sanctuary. 

* * *

><p>One week later...<p>

Veezara came running into the Sanctuary excitedly as he confronted most of the other members of the Family. He claimed that he saw Layra walking up the road in the distance, but that wasn't all he saw.

Cicero, Babette, Festus Krex, Nazir, and Gabriella were sitting around in the common area, talking and sharing news of their contracts. Arnbjorn was with Astrid somewhere in the Sanctuary.

"She was wearing an Amulet of Mara!" Veezara exclaimed. Everyone's heads snapped up.

"She's...looking for marriage?" Nazir wondered aloud. Everyone began speaking a mile a minute as Layra made her way into the Sanctuary, exhausted, and fearful. She walked down the steps and was immediately greeted by Cicero.

"Oh, sister! When were you going to tell poor Cicero of your marriage?" He wept dramatically. Layra gave him a questioning look as he embraced her, causing her to blush.

"U-um...Cicero...I'm not married, and I don't plan on getting married any time soon." She said, which caused him to happily pull away and stand next to her, looking at the others with a certain expression, as if to say 'I told you so'.

"But...your amulet..." Veezara started.

"What about it?" Layra asked. That was when everyone realized why she wore it. Layra was a spell caster, as well as a warrior and a master of stealth. Amulets of Mara were used also as restoration aids.

After a moment of explanation for both sides of the story, everyone had a complete understanding of each other. Layra learned that wearing an Amulet of Mara usually meant that someone was looking for marriage. The others realized that Layra wore it to boost her restoration power.

After a few more weeks had passed, the others decided to ask her at meal time about her trip.

That's when the problem started. Layra had been jumpy and nervous and embarrassed, not just around Cicero, but every other male Family member. Astrid was beginning to get suspicious, and so was everyone else. They decided behind Layra's back that they'd get Gabriella to ask her. First, they'd start out the conversation normally, then Gabriella would ask the big question.

"Layra, dear, you're not eating. Are you well?" She asked. Layra nodded, pushing her plate away from her and stretching a bit in her seat.

"How about you tell us where you got that amulet, then?" Festus asked.

"I got this as a bonus reward from Muiri in Markarth. I apologize for taking so long on that contract." She said, sadness suddenly filling her eyes. Gabriella spoke up.

"Yes, dear, you did take rather a long time. One week is usually a bit excessive. Did you encounter a bandit problem?" She asked. Layra nodded, getting everyone's attention once more.

"Yes, actually. On my way to the ruins where I was to find Muiri's target, I encountered some Forsworn. And, since I didn't have any gold on me yet, they spared me my life, but took me to their camp. All men. And then they...t-they..." Layra's hand flew over her mouth as tears spilled from her eyes. She made no noise as she cried, though. She just shook. After a moment of realizing what had just happened, and having Gabriella whisper the explanation for the stupid pig-headed men in the family, they all understood and froze in horror. Layra was a kind, tough new recruit to the Family and none of the members could ever imagine her in such a fragile, terrified state.

Layra was raped, multiple times. She was tossed from man to man like some sort of pleasure toy. But when they allowed her to get dressed, she took the dagger from her pocket and tore each one to pieces, barely making it out of the battle alive. She spent the next day drinking all of their health potions and by night, she was ready enough to head out.

She told her Family that she was only able to get over the event and pain so quickly thanks to the 6 bottles of Skooma she drank. After a wave that numbed her whole body and allowed her some peace and relaxation for a few hours, she drank one last health potion to cure herself from the Skooma so she wouldn't end up addicted to the stuff.

"I am sickened by myself, that I did such horrid things to my body afterwards just so I wouldn't be too traumatized to not have a relationship for the rest of my life. I am a woman, and I am still young. And I want to have fun while I still can. But the right way, not forcefully. No no no, too painful." Layra said, drinking her wine. The others smirked and blushed at the statement, realizing she was drunk by now, and listened to her claim how much she wanted sex the right way, and how much she loved them all, and how there was a floating goat in the Sanctuary.

The others were worried, sure, but convinced that after her intense and highly dangerous 'healing methods', she would be fine. Of course, they wanted to get some sleep, so they ordered Cicero to watch over the babbling drunk girl in the next room. He stayed up with her, singing morbid songs, telling jokes, and giggling about nothing at all until she fell asleep. And afterwards, he went to go tend to the Night Mother.

Until the next morning, in which everyone woke up.

Except for Layra.


	5. Chapter 5: The Silence Has Been Broken

Cicero had been ordered to go wake her up, and when he noticed her chest never moved, he began screaming as loudly as possible about how she was dead and how she'll never come back and continue be poor Cicero's friend. Festus, being slightly educated in the arts of restoration, was ordered to examine her, with Gabriella's help.

Festus and Gabriella pieced together the real story, and explained what happened to everyone after two hours worth of tending to Layra's body (after they got her breathing again, of course).

Layra had drank six bottles of Skooma, that was true. But she didn't drink a healing potion afterwards. Oh no, she was much too high to even tell the sky from the ground. Instead of the bright pink/red bottle of healing potion, Layra had grabbed the bright red bottle of slow-acting poison next to it. She was too high to even taste the difference.

After finishing the story, everyone went about their day, working on contracts, among other things, to keep themselves busy. Cicero would sit by Layra for a while, then tend to the Night Mother, and so on. When Layra finally awoke, she was glomped by the fool, and her ears were chewed off by Astrid and the other members. They were both furious and thankful of her safety and well being, and Layra thanked both Gabriella and Festus for their care. Then Layra shyly thanked Cicero for his help as well, blushing madly. The other Family members noticed this, and began to get suspicious. 

* * *

><p>But that was something Astrid decided to ignore. She didn't care about Layra's feelings towards Cicero, she cared about something else. About Cicero. About the way he'd been acting lately.<p>

"Layra...I need your assistance with something of a more...personal nature..." She said. Layra gave a confused look.

"Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Its Cicero. Ever since he arrived, his behavior's been...well, erratic would be an understatement. I do believe he's truly mad. But it's worse than that. He's taken to locking himself in the Night Mother's chamber, and talking to someone. In hushed, but frantic tones. Who is he speaking with? What are they planning? I fear treachery." Astrid stated. Layra knew Cicero. They had become close friends over time, and Layra knew he was a bit mental, but weren't they all? Come on, they were a group of cutthroats who adored murder. That wasn't exactly considered sane.

"Astrid, you're being a bit...paranoid." Layra said, biting her lip while giving Astrid a serious look.

"Maybe so, but healthy paranoia has saved this Sanctuary before, and my gut's telling me that demented little fool is up to something." She said.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" Layra asked.

"Dear sister, I need you to steal into that chamber and eavesdrop on their meeting. It'll be no use clinging to the shadows, they'll see you for sure. No, you need a hiding place. Somewhere they'd never think to look. ...Like inside the Night Mother's coffin."

"What? But that seems so...disrespectful." Layra complained.

"We have no other choice. You must remain unseen! Now go, before they meet. And report back to me with everything you learn." Astrid ordered. Layra left Astrid's presence and went to go quickly speak to the others, to fill them in on what was going on. Festus wasn't surprised at all, Gabriella was interested and Arnbjorn, Nazir, and Veezara were repulsed at the thought of someone betraying Astrid this way. The only one left was Babette.

"Oh, well, I hope Astrid doesn't think it's me. Because, well, ok, I _have_ spoken to Cicero...very often...and he's _quite charming_..." The vampire spoke, her eyes glistening and a light blush tainting her cheeks.

"He really is." Layra admitted. They giggled together, and Babette finished her statement.

"But Astrid is the only Matron I serve now. I'd never betray her, ever." The girl said. Layra thanked her for her time and went on with what she had to do.

Layra sprinted upstairs and into the Night Mother's chamber. She opened the coffin doors and closed them behind her. She was face to face with the poor Mother and it sickened her. But then she heard humming. That humming that made her heart melt every time she heard it.

Cicero entered the room and Layra heard his footsteps stop right in front of the coffin.

"Are we alone? Yes...yes...alone. Sweet solitude. No one will hear us, disturb us. Everything is going according to plan. The others...I've spoken to them. And they're coming around, I know it. The wizard, Festus Krex, perhaps even the Argonian and the un-child. What about you? Have...have you spoken to anyone? No, no of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing and saying! And what do you do, hmm? NOTHING! Not...not that I'm angry, no, never. Cicero understands. Cicero always understands...and obeys...You will talk when you're ready, wont you? Won't you...Sweet Night Mother!" He exclaimed. So that was it. Cicero wasn't betraying the Brotherhood at all, he was simply trying to talk to the Night Mother.

Layra was about to get out of the coffin and explain everything to Cicero when the Night Mother...spoke...

...to her...

"Poor Cicero. Dear Cicero. Such a humble servant. But he will never hear my voice, no, for he is not the Listener." Said she. Layra was frozen with fear. She bit her tongue to stop from screaming. Of all the things she had witnessed, this was somehow the most terrifying.

"Oh, but how can I defend you? How can exert your will? If you will not speak? To anyone!" Cicero cried.

"Oh, but I will speak. I will speak to you. For you are the one. Yes, you, you who shares my iron tomb. Who warms my ancient bones. I give you this task - journey to Volunruud. Speak with Amaund Motierre." Said Mother.

"Poor Cicero has failed you. Poor Cicero is sorry, sweet Mother. I've tried. So very hard. But I just can't find the Listener!" Cicero cried.

"Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he has been waiting for, all these years. 'Darkness rises when silence dies.'" Suddenly an unknown force pushed Layra out of the coffin and she landed hard onto the floor in front of Cicero. She looked up at him and felt ready to die. He was outraged, and it showed. She was his best friend and she just defiled everything he worked for.

"W-what? What treachery! Defiler! Debaser and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother's coffin! EXPLAIN YOURSELF!" He yelled, grabbing her by the collar of her uniform and forcefully holding her against the wall in rage. He slammed her against the wall to make her talk.

"Speak, worm!" He shrieked. Layra choked as fear clouded her mind.

"W-wait. C-c-c-cicero! Stop! T-the Night Mother spoke to me! She said 'I am the one'." She coughed. Cicero's eyes widened, only to fall back into a glare. He slammed her into the wall again.

"She...spoke to you? More treachery! More trickery and deceit! You lie! The Night Mother speaks only to the Listener! A-and...there is...no...Listener..." He exclaimed. Layra choked some more.

"W-wait! C-cicero..." Layra choked. He, once again, slammed her against the wall. She was crying now, and tasted blood in her mouth.

"S-she said to t-tell you...'Darkness rises when silence dies...'" Layra whispered in pain. Cicero's eyes widened dramatically and he dropped her, causing her to fall to the floor. He knelt in front of her, taking her chin in his hand and wiping her tears away as he gave her a serious look.

"She said that...? She said those words...to you? Darkness rises when silence dies?" He asked. Layra nodded. She noticed something different about his voice just then. He sounded normal...not enthusiastic, but calm, _sane_.

"But those are the words...The Binding Words. Written in the Keeping Tomes. The signal so I would know. Mother's only way of talking to sweet Cicero..." He said. He gave her a look of realization and she slightly smiled at him as he jumped into the air and began to dance.

"Then it's true! She is BACK! OUR LADY IS BACK! She has chosen a Listener! HAHAHAHA! She has chosen YOU! Ahahahahahahaha! All hail the Listener!" He grabbed her and twirled her around while cheering and made sure her didn't hurt her too seriously. The blood in her mouth was simply from her biting her tongue, and she was crying because she never wanted Cicero to be angry with her. Cicero made sure she was alright, and then gave her a quick peck on her forehead to cheer her up, which only made her bite her lip in embarrassment. They both heard loud footsteps running down the hall and stood up, making it look as if nothing had happened.

Astrid entered the room in a fury.

"By Sithis! This ends now! Back away, fool! Whatever you've been planning is over!" She spat at Cicero and then embraced Layra, who was quivering in the corner of the room.

"Are you all right, sister? I heard the commotion. Who was Cicero talking to? Where's the accomplice? Reveal yourself, traitor!" She said, now speaking to Cicero once more.

"I spoke only to the Night Mother! I spoke to the Night Mother, but she didn't speak to me. Oh no. She spoke only to _her_! To the Listener!" Cicero confessed.

"What? The Listener? What are you going on about? What is this lunacy?" Astrid roared.

"It's true! It's true! The Night Mother has spoken! The silence has been broken! The Listener has been chosen!" Cicero cheered, dancing with Layra, who was going numb with all the commotion.

"When I heard Cicero screaming, I knew you'd been discovered. I feared the worst. Are you alright?" Astrid asked. Layra nodded.

"Yes, Astrid. I'm perfectly fine." Layra said. Astrid gave a stern look.

"Then what in Sithis' name is going on? Cicero spoke to the Night Mother, but she spoke to you? Is this just more of the crazy fool's rambling?" Astrid asked. Layra spoke up.

"He's not crazy, and he's no fool. It's all true. The Night Mother spoke to me. She said I was 'the one'." Layra said, defending her beloved lunatic.

"What? So Cicero wasn't really talking to anyone else. Just...the Night Mother's body? And...the Night Mother, who , according to everything we know, will only speak to the person chosen as Listener, just spoke...right now...to _you?_" Astrid asked.

"Yes..." Layra replied.

"By Sithis..." Astrid said incredulously.

"And...what did she say?" Astrid asked.

"She said I must go to Volunruud, and meet with a man named Amaund Motierre." Layra replied.

"Amaund Motierre? I have no idea who that is. But Volunruud. That I have heard of, and I know where it is." Astrid stated.

"So I should go to Volunruud? I should speak with this Amaund Motierre?" Layra asked.

"Hmm? No...NO! Look, the Night Mother may have spoken to you, but I am still the leader of this Sanctuary. Are we clear on that? You take your orders from me. Always. You do what I say, when I say. No questions, no protests. I will not have my authority so easily dismissed." Astrid barked. Cicero growled softly at her comment about the Night Mother and mumbled something Layra couldn't understand.

"I...I need time to think about all this. In the meantime, go see Nazir. Do some work for him. I'll call you when I'm ready to discuss the matter further." Astrid said, biting her lip and turning around swiftly on her heels, then stomping out of the room. Cicero scoffed at her and hummed before realizing that Layra was still in the room with him. He smiled at her and danced.

"Oh you are the Listener! You are the Listener! I have served Mother well, I have! Hehehe!" He cheered. Layra smiled at his childishness. She then got a worried look on her face, and turned to Cicero, putting a hand on his shoulder to stop him from dancing. She looked up at him.

"Cicero..." She started. He paused and looked at her expectantly.

"Did you want to be Listener?" She asked. His eyes took a sad form as he glanced to the side so he wouldn't have to look at her. She looked up at him, waiting.

"Oh...well...yes. I did. I did, indeed. I tried hard to listen. But Mother never spoke to Poor Cicero..." He said. Layra suddenly felt really upset. His voice suddenly took a deep, dark tone and he glanced at her.

"The silence became almost...maddening..." He confessed. Layra froze as her eyes widened.

_W-what...? Wait a minute..._She thought, trying to piece together what he just said. But before she could, he interrupted her train of thought with a loud, mad cackle.

"Oh but that was then! This is now! You're the Listener, and the Night Mother chose you for a reason, I'm sure. So Cicero will remain the happy Keeper!" He giggled and began to dance away, out of the room in a frenzy. Layra paused and stood in thought, thinking about what he said. But then she shook off the strange feeling she had and walked to the dining room to ask Nazir for some extra work.

* * *

><p>Layra had ended up bringing Cicero along with her. <em>Finally...<em>she thought. _I'll get to see Cicero in action!_

They traveled first to Morthal, to assasinate the "worst bard in all of Skyrim". Lurbuk, the Orc, was in the middle of "The Age of Agression" when they walked in. Cicero guffawed as Layra plugged her ears. When Lurbuk finished, however, the dangerous duo came up to him, while everyone else in the tavern watched.

"Sing me a song, bard!" Layra cried, trying to stick to the script she and Cicero had thought of on the way there. For fun, of course.

"A song of fear and death!" Cicero added dramatically. The other town members in the tavern groaned as Lurbuk actually tried to make up a morbid song right on the spot. Layra sighed. Cicero was much better suited for that. At least the madman could sing...

...somewhat...

"Uh, ok. Shadows creep...and uh, phantom's leap. A man's got...he's got scared! And the, uh, demon's dared to...um...swallow him with all he feared!" He ended, and bowed to the two. Cicero's eye twitched, and Layra knew he was at his limit.

"Brilliant, I know. It's a gift." Lurbuk boasted, as he called out to the 'audience' for another request. They all told him to drop dead.

"Hehehe Cicero can arrange that..." Cicero growled, and before Layra could stop him, he shrieked, earning everyone's attention once more, and stabbed Lurbuk multiple times until he was dead. Actually, he didn't stop stabbing until he started to fling the blood everywhere. It was at this point that everyone was either too disgusted, pleased, or shocked to speak. The people of Morthal had gotten their wish, it had seemed. As punishment, Cicero and Layra had to clean up the mess while the innkeeper dragged Lurbuk's body down into the loose skeeverhole outside through the back door of Moorside Inn. Layra was grateful that Lurbuk's death didn't affect her bounty. Cicero was humming while enjoying a nice, quiet drink with his Listener, when the innkeeper called from her counter.

"How about some music? You two! Over there, in the corner! Sing us a song! You'll obviously do better than the dead moron outside!" She chortled. Everyone in the tavern cheered, and Layra blushed. She was too embarrassed for this. She was a killer. She had graduated from the bard's college. But only in lute-playing. She didn't want to embarrass herself in the singing classes.

Cicero stood excitedly and pulled her towards the front of the room, ignoring her protests and claiming how fun it would be. She always sang songs with him at home, anyway. He grabbed a lute and handed it to her, assuming she'd wanted it. He cleared his throat, and Layra remembered that he used to be a bard. She thought back to their conversation on the road so long ago...

Cicero asked for any flutists and drummers. There were several of each, who came up and sat behind them to play in the background. The rest in the tavern stuck with watching, humming along, and clapping. But Layra didn't know what to play. She had stagefright.

"Play me a tune. I'll follow your lead." Cicero said, suddenly taking on that strange voice again. The one that made Layra's skin tingle. He sounded so normal, so sane, so gentlemanly.

So...not Cicero...

She loved it, but she didn't. She loved the crazy one. But she couldn't just love the crazy one, because they were both sides of him. Could it be possible he was regaining his sanity somehow? The snapping of his fingers got her attention back, and in a panic, she had started the song before him, suddenly singing and playing her lute, but not facing the townspeople. Cicero smiled. She had a lovely voice. It was raspy and had a rough edge to it, and he liked that. The other people in the room seemed to like it, too. They already were cheering for her courage and humming and clapping in rhythm to the music. Then Cicero started to sing along, and with this different voice of his, not his typical speaking or singing voice, Layra felt ready to faint. He sounded so different, so angelic. It was maddening.

"Alduin's wings, they did darken the sky...

His roar fury's fire, and his scales sharpened scythes...

Men ran and they cowered, and they fought and they died...

They burned and they bled as they issued their cries...

We need saviors to free us from Alduin's rage...

Heroes on the field of this new war to wage...

And if Alduin wins, man is gone from this world...

Lost in the shadow of the black wings unfurled...

But then came the Tongues on that terrible day...

Steadfast as winter, they entered the fray...

And all heard the music of Alduin's doom...

The sweet song of Skyrim, skyshattering Thu'um...

And so the Tongues freed us from Alduin's rage...

Gave the gift of the Voice, ushered in a new Age...

If Alduin is eternal, then eternity's done...

For his story is over and the dragons are gone..." They finished, earning a roaring applause from the audience. Layra smiled and clapped, feeling better. Cicero jumped up in the air, did a split, landed with a twirl, and then bowed. Everyone clapped for his enthusiasm.

"Again! Again!" Cicero said, and snapped his fingers towards the drummers, who started a fast-paced rhythm that Layra couldn't recognize...at first. Cicero belted out a song she was all-too familiar with.

"We drink to our youth,

to the days come and gone...

For the Age of Aggression is just about done...

We'll drive out the Stormcloaks and restore what we owe...

With our blood and our steel we will take back our home!

Down with Ulfric! The killer of kings! On the day of your death, we'll drink and we'll sing...

We're the children of Skyrim, and we fight all our lives

And when Sovngarde beckons everyone of us dies

But this land is ours and we'll see it whiped clean

Of the scourge that has sullied our hopes and our dreams..." Layra had joined in at the end and they repeated the entire song with everyone in the tavern singing along. Lastly, Layra took over for the final song 'The Dragonborn Comes', and the other women in the room sang and harmonized with her. They left the men no chance to sing. Bu they were all content with drinking and listening to everyone else for a while. But what got everyone's attention was when Layra began a solo and started to chant in a foreign language. Her eyes glowed and as she chanted, a huge energy circled around her and started at her mouth every time she released a word. Cicero was entranced by the bright colors that enveloped the Listener's form. He had no idea what kind of magic this was.

"Dovahkiin, dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin...

Wah dein vokul mafaeraak ahst vaal

Ahrk fin norok paal graan

Fud nust hon zindro zaan

Dovahkiin, fah hin, kogaan mu draal..." She finished, and earned awestruck stares from everyone in the inn. When she thanked everyone and walked out of Morthal with Cicero, he exploded with questions.

"The Listener never told Cicero that she was an Imperial! Or the 'Dragonborn', whatever that is. What language were you speaking? Is it fun? Listener, were you a bard once, like poor Cicero? Will the Listener sing again? Listener, how much have you had to drink? Because Cicero doesn't want the Listener's heart to stop again. Cicero was so worried back then that he almost went crazy! HAHAHAHA! Cicero? Crazy? That's MADNESS! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" He shrieked as they walked down the road to find a carriage driver. Layra groaned in annoyance but when Cicero's back was turned she smiled to herself and giggled softly.

They rode in a carriage all night long, and slept beside each other under the stars. They awoke when they felt the deathly chill of Windhelm's stables. 


	6. Chapter 6: The End?

Layra shivered when she woke, sitting up and gawking at the snow covered carriage. Cicero made no audible complaints, but his brows were furrowed and he was shivering violently. Layra bit her lip in worry for him. Then she of the warm land back in Cyrodil and felt homesick.

"I m-miss C-c-cyrodil..." She chattered. Cicero's head snapped in her direction, his eyes wide as he looked down upon her.

"The Listener has been to Cyrodil?" He asked incredulously, as if he knew all about the place. Layra smiled slightly and nodded.

"I'm an Imperial, born in Cyrodil and raised among the Empire. Imperial soldiers were all I ever saw and new, until I gained control on what I believed." She admitted. Cicero nodded in understanding.

"Cicero never would have thought that at first glance the Listener was an Imperial! The Listener is much too pretty to be an Imperial!" He blurted, then froze and reeled back. Layra blushed heavily, frozen in his words (and the freezing weather).

"Cicero apologizes. He did not mean to say that. Well, Cicero meant what he said, but Cicero knows that the Listener is almost as pretty as the Night Mother. O-of course, not as beautiful, because the Night Mother is our maiden, mother, our Unholy Matron! Cicero of course respects the Listener, but as Keeper he is devoted to the Night Mother, and-"

"Cicero, its okay." Layra said, interrupting him. She was blushing heavily as Cicero nodded dismissively.

"Of course, of course. Cicero is glad the Listener forgives him. Also, Listener, Cicero is so surprised that the Listener is an Imperial, like poor Cicero! Of course, he is glad, so that he can relate more to the Listener!" He exclaimed. Layra nodded, slightly vexed that he had yet to use her real name. She began to wish that he treated her like he used to, before she became the Listener. Back when she was the 'kindly stranger' who helped him on the road. She sighed and tried to gain courage.

"Cicero, can't you address me by my real name, if you and I are so close?" As best friends, they should at least know each others names. Cicero froze, and began to stutter. Then he looked at her and took a guess.

"Lisa?" He guessed. She bit her lip in anger, but held a calm expression.

"Its...Layra..." She said. Cicero clapped his hands and pointed at her.

"Cicero knew that! Oh, by the way Lisa, what did you mean by 'gaining control' on your own beliefs?" He asked. Layra's hands fisted into her blanket.

"Its Layra, and I first found my interest in the Dark Brotherhood in Cyrodil, when I had heard of the guild back there. Of course, I was too frightened to even imagine I'd end up as one of them. Soon after I had read a bit about the guild, I had moved to Skyrim after a mysterious incident..." She said. She looked at Cicero, who waved his hand as if telling her to go on. She sighed and continued.

"Nobody knows what was going on, even I still don't know to this day, but night after night, there were daily murders that occurred. Innocent people too, not just people like you and me, who hunt people who have done real damage to others. I'd be clueless until about late afternoon as to what happened each day. Every night, sleep would take over me because I was so busy all day, and I'd black out." She paused, then continued.

"So I rarely knew about the drama. Then my family members were victims of the crime and they were murdered viciously. They weren't very supportive or nice but they were still my family, so I became depressed for a while and felt guilty, even though this had nothing to do with me. I was the only one left in my family who wasn't killed so I fled to Skyrim. Of course, I was arrested by my own fellow people and nearly had my head cut off by other Imperials. I escaped when a dragon attacked and fled Helgen, and ran off to Riverwood to start off my new life in Skyrim. That was years ago, of course. Now, I'm happy and content with my blood-spilling life." She finished.

Cicero admired her storytelling, and they made their way out of the carriage. They began their trek to the next contract. Half-Moon Mill, the home of two undercover vampires. Killing those two without getting bitten was surprisingly easy. Afterwards, they decided to head back to the Sanctuary and they began walking home.

They decided to camp out for the night and they slept in a clear passing. Poor Cicero was a master at not showing his feelings, but he couldn't hold it forever. The minute they got to the clearing, he collapsed onto a bedroll someone left there and fell asleep instantly. Layra put the blanket from her own bed roll over his to give him extra warmth, and then she fell asleep on her own, ready to dream.

* * *

><p>She awoke in the middle of the night to strange noises, and sat up to come face to face with Cicero. She reeled back in embarrassment, when he began to speak.<p>

"Listener...Cicero cannot keep quiet any longer. Cicero is incomplete without the Listener. Cicero needs the Listener. Cicero wants the Listener to be only his." He crawled closer to her quivering form and once they are only a lips distance away from each other he whispers to her.

"Cicero loves you..." He purred and sealed their lips. One thing lead to another and unanimously they made love on the grass. It was messy, quiet, and an intense fight for dominance. They finished rather quickly, and Layra was wrapped in his arms. She was in a daze...he had whispered her real name when they climaxed.

"Cicero..." She whispered. He looked down at her, humming softly in acknowledgement.

"I'm so happy I could die..." She whispered lovingly to him. There was a moment of silence, and then Layra suddenly felt a sharp pain in her chest so intense she couldn't even fathom what was happening. She looked down and saw thick blood flowing out from a peak on the left side of her chest. There was a small gleam on her chest before she experienced more intense, sudden pain. Then the gleam disappeared, and reappeared right in front of her face. Cicero's ebony dagger was gleaming in the moonlight, dripping with her blood.

"Your wish is my command, Listener." He replied, with a sickening gleam in his eyes. Layra couldn't even reply before her entire body shut down in shock and she was swallowed into the void.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Mwahahahahahhahahaha! Is this the end! Is Layra really dead?**

**Tee hee, I'm ready for the flames :3 Killing off Layra, how evil of me :P**


	7. Chapter 7: She's WHAT?

Layra awoke with a scream and she found herself in Cicero's arms. She began to struggle, terrified of being touched by him when suddenly his eyes pierced hers and she froze. He gave her a concerned look.

"Cicero is overjoyed to see the Listener is finally awake. After sleeping last night, you never woke up. Cicero remembers collapsing into his bedroll, and bidding the Listener good night before sleeping. Listener, why didn't you wake up?" He asked. Layra's jaw dropped. Was everything they had experienced in the middle of the night really only just a dream? Or nightmare?

"U-um...nothing. I guess I really was just too exhausted to wake up. Sorry, Cicero." She said. Despite what Cicero's dream self had done to her at the end, she was still heartbroken that those beautiful words he said to her in her dream will never truly come from him. He was too insane, too caught up in the Night Mother and the Brotherhood to even think of that. She sighed and listened to him, still trying to get out of his grasp.

"Oh, of course, Listener! Cicero is sorry! He should have let you sleep more. Well, have no fear, we are almost home. Here, Listener, allow poor Cicero to carry you. You seem too weak to walk this morning. Of course, Cicero knows the Listener is capable of a speeding gait, no doubt, but for your well being, just this once, allow Cicero to take you home." He exclaimed. Layra bit her lip. He was tugging at her heartstrings.

_You can take me home as many damn times as you like, you fool..._She thought.

* * *

><p>Layra was still trying to come to terms with her dream when they arrived back at the Sanctuary. Cicero dropped her off at the stairs and pecked her on her cheek, then her hand in gratitude, and sprinted to the Night Mother's chamber to go tend to her. Astrid glared at him from her desk as he ran by. She looked at the blushing Layra, and glared at her.<p>

"We need to talk...now..." She said sternly. Layra looked back at her.

"Of course, Astrid. What is it?" She asked. Astrid pursed her lips.

"Look. Something is happening here. I'm not sure entirely what it is, but...Well, we need to find out." She paused, then continued.

"If the Night Mother really did give you an order to talk to a contact, we'd be mad to ignore it. And I think we'd _both_ agree, that _Cicero_ has brought _enough_madness to this Sanctuary." Layra's eyes shifted at Astrid's comment.

"So go. Go to Volunruud. It's a crypt, pretty far to the northeast. Talk to this Amaund Motierre. And let's see where this all leads, hmm?" Astrid said, and walked back to her desk to contemplate everything while Layra looked at her newly marked map, and set foot outside once more. It was sunny, and her skin tingled. It almost...hurt.

"Ow...what's up with my body...? It's probably because of the position I was in when I slept last night...hmph...Damnit, this hurts." She complained, and felt the strange sensation throughout the whole trip.

* * *

><p>When she entered the crypt, she immediately took out her sword and carefully approached the door surrounded by slain Draugr. Then she entered, and put away her weapon when a man approached her.<p>

"By the Almighty Divines...you've come...you've actually come. This..._dreadful_Black Sacrament thing...it...worked." He said. Layra assumed this man was the contact, and the man standing on the other side of the room was his bodyguard.

"Yes...it did. The Night Mother heard your pleas, Motierre." She said. He gave a nervous glance.

"Yes, um...so it would seem. Well, I won't waste your time. I would like to arrange a contract. _Several_, actually." He corrected himself. Layra's eyes widened slightly.

"I daresay, the work I'm offering has more significance than anything your organization has experienced in, well, centuries." He stated. Layra waved her hand to speed him up.

"Go on..." She hurried him.

"As I said, I want you to kill several people. You'll find the targets, as well as their manners of elimination, quite varied. I'm sure someone of your disposition will probably even find it enjoyable. But you should know that these killings are but a means to an end. For they pave the way to the most important target. It's the real reason I'm speaking with a cutthroat in the bowels of this detestable crypt. For I seek the assassination of...The Emperor." He whispered. Layra's mouth opened the slightest bit, but she covered her surprise up slightly.

"Leader's rise and fall. Business is business." She claimed.

_Oh...no..._

* * *

><p>"Cicero doesn't understand why the Listener is so upset! Listener, why are you angry at Poor Cicero?" Cicero cried as Layra stormed into the Sanctuary after telling Astrid all the details about the contact. Motierre gave her a strange amulet and she told Astrid about the assassination plot. Cicero was in the background at the time, and overheard Layra. He scowled, rolled his eyes and mumbled something to someone only <em>he<em>could hear. Layra noticed this the minute the conversation was over and started an argument without even realizing it.

"How are you _not_ upset, fool! The Emperor of Tamriel is to be assassinated...b-by my hand...and _you_have NOTHING to say for that? I CANNOT believe you!" She shrieked. The others gathered behind the wall around the corner in interest. The only ones not watching were Astrid and her husband.

"Cicero is concerned! Just because I'm devoted to the Night Mother, doesn't mean I'm not loyal to my race." He responded in his usual excruciating tone. Layra stomped her foot.

"That's bullshit! You don't give a flying fuck about any of this! The only real cause for that is because you're too insane to fully understand what we're all going through right now. All you do is sit in Her chamber and KEEP! I'm probably the only one in this family not doing well, and you're just...just..." Layra paused to breathe. She was rambling now, and forgot the point she was originally trying to make. All she knew now was that she was upset. And she had to take care of her anger. She was about to stomp away when Cicero roughly grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him. His eyes were blazing as a scowl formed once more upon his lips.

"This is not all about you, Listener. Cicero cares. Cicero has always cared. You're the one who doesn't care. For you, I must. It is why I am Keeper. I broke several rules for you. I _killed _someone, I neglected the Night Mother's weekly oiling, and was required to do double the work, and I shared your contract. Granted, the last one isn't exactly breaking a rule, and these aren't exactly the Tenets, but nonetheless, Cicero has always cared, and been there the very instant, _always._" He spat. Layra's fists twitched by her side as she glared at him.

"If you care so much about me, and not just my role as Listener, then _why_did you sleep with me and stab me through the heart?" She blurted. Her eyes shimmered, and she began to feel light headed. Her footing slowly became uneasy as the others softly gasped the slightest bit in the background as they continued to peer around the corner. Cicero's expression changed instantly within the next minute. Shocked, to confused, to worried, to petrified, to paranoid, and then back to vexed.

"Cicero did no such thing! Especially with the Listener! Never!" He exclaimed. Layra's eyes were half lidded, but she shook her head and stared right back at him as tears sprang from her eyes before she even noticed them.

"There you go...still so oblivious...you claim your innocence with such distaste. As if the thought of sleeping with me is too unbearable to comprehend..." She hissed. Cicero's eyes suddenly widened and he bit his lip, trying to grasp onto some form of understanding.

"Cicero didn't mean it like that. He meant that he would never do something...like _that_...and then harm the poor Listener..." He claimed again. Layra stumbled backwards slightly as the others in the background began to murmur in question as to what was wrong with her.

"Don't talk as if you pity me...I already hate your guts, you stupid, clueless _ass!_" She spat at him, her words like venom, which stung his poor, frail ears. Before he could reply, or think of a reply, she was unconscious on the floor. The others gathered near her, talking a mile a minute about completely different things. They called Astrid and Arnbjorn, and Astrid immediately scowled at Cicero, accusing him of Layra's condition. After being corrected by him (and everyone else) Astrid ordered the others to keep watch over her. Arnbjorn felt a strange urge to follow the others, and did so as they carried Layra to her bunk.

* * *

><p>"Remember that story she told us during dinnertime two days ago?" Arnbjorn asked. Babbette was rummaging through her potions and bottles and alchemy ingredients.<p>

"The one about Cyrodill, and the murders, and the blackouts?" Babbette responded. Arnbjorn nodded.

"I've been thinking...something here doesn't seem right...You see, I've read that Cyrodill is claimed to have lovely weather at night..., and blackouts can only occur nightly to one kind of person." He said, scratching his jaw in thought. Through the slight bickering of the others in the room who also gave their opinions, a small "oops" from Babbette was just barely heard. But it was still ignored, considering the others thought she merely made a small mistake in her alchemy.

"What? You suppose she is a werewolf now?" Gabriella exclaimed. Arnbjorn nodded.

"Just because I don't encounter nightly transformations doesn't mean they can't happen. Some are more attached to the moonlight than other wolves." He said. Nazir pinched the bridge of his nose.

"So wait, you're telling me that based on the weather, you say that Layra is a werewolf?" Nazir asked. Babbette butted in.

"Well, considering what I've just done, I'd say she's more than that, guys." She said, her eyes wider than usual. Everyone glanced over at a small red line running down Layra's chin, and a red bottle gripped within Babbette's hand.

"Babbette...?" Veezara began. Babbette held up a hand to explain.

"I thought this was a cure disease potion. I thought it would heal whatever was wrong with her body. But its not a healing potion. This is something of...lets say..._personal_interest..." She said, slurring the last two words so everyone would understand. Festus was the first one to understand.

"Oh, you didn't..." He began. Everyone looked at him, then back at her in confusion.

"I gave her a bottle of my human blood supply." She said simply. Everyone's jaws dropped.

"I'd say, judging by the fact that she lacks proper fangs, she's a defective vampire. Her age is unaffected, as well as her skin and body. She can be easily poisoned because of her condition, and somehow the sun still has a slight effect on her. And fire, that might still be a problem. Unfortunately, for some reason, she swallowed the entire amount I poured into her mouth instantly. Without hesitation. That is from lack of proper 'feeding'. And since she doesn't have fangs, she cannot feed. This condition also causes her red blood cells to reproduce and multiply...not as quickly." She stated. Everyone else was wide eyed. They didn't expect anything like this.

"So...wait...what are you saying?" Nazir asked, asking the same question everyone else was thinking. Babbette sighed and shook her head in frustration. It irked her that some humans just couldn't grasp things.

"Guys...I don't know how else I can put it to you. Layra...is a hybrid." She said. Suddenly Layra began to cough, and she jerked upwards and cleared her throat after choking momentarily.

"Oh Gods...that was so freaky. You won't believe what I saw. It's a memory, almost. Of something that happened to me a few years ago when I first came to Skyrim. Sheogorath was there, and he talking to Pelagius the Mad, who was brooding over-" She paused when she realized everyone staring at her.

"What?" She asked, raising her eyebrow as leftover blood from the bottle dripped from her lower lip. She eyed it as it dripped onto her sleeve and licked her mouth clean. Then she froze, not knowing why she did that so eagerly. She looked up at the others, eyes slightly wider than before, and they gazed back at her.

"So..." Festus stared. The others looked to him as he gave a sharp, irritated look and made his usual cranky-uncle face before continuing. Gabriella bit her lip as Arnbjorn crossed his arms and Cicero folded his hands behind his back while Nazir and Veezara fidgeted with their hands and arms, awaiting Festus' blunt response.

"When were you gonna tell us you were a hybrid?" 


End file.
